Fifty Shades Of Isolation
by xNikki
Summary: 16 year old Anastasia is left all alone when her mother overdoses and dies. All Ana's known is the struggle of life and life for Ana gets more complicated when she finds out her mother had secrets, secrets that change her life completely.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: The original characters of Fifty Shades of Grey are owned by E.L. James. The content, added characters and storyline of this story are owned by me. No copyright infringement is intended.**

 **Rated M for adult language.**

* * *

 **Chapter One**

Dead. I stare at her lifeless pale body in the casket. She's dead. Looking down at her hand, my fingers twitch, I want to touch her but I can't seem to move. _Just move, Ana. You can do it. This is the last time you'll ever get to touch her after all._ Slowly, I raise my hand, bringing it down to hers; my hand begins to shake in trepidation. _What are you so worried about? You can't hurt her, she's dead._ Dead. Dead. She's dead. She really is dead. I've said dead so many times now it doesn't sound right. My fingers make contact and… she's cold. _See that wasn't so bad…_

"Huh." I state aloud. Tilting my head in curiosity I lift her hand up and drop it, so stiff. Quirking my brow in realization I sigh, "Cold and stiff, Just like your favorite kind of drink, huh mom?"

I hear the priest clear his throat, looking up I can't fail to notice the look of disapproval he's throwing my way. He must've heard me. _Not the time or place, Ana._ I thought it was clever. Mom would've appreciated it too, after throwing the hardest object she could find at me first of course.

I walk back and take my seat at the front row. Apart from me and the priest, who clearly looks like he wants to be here, tapping his foot relentlessly and gazing at his watch so much you'd think it's going to disappear, in the far back there's Chuck, the overweight, balding, middle aged bottle shop owner from down the road. As I stare at his slumped shoulders and drained expression I can't help but think… he's going to lose so much money now that his number one customer's dead. Like crap, a lot of money. I'm thinking of his revenue. I stare at Chuck a bit more. I kinda feel bad for the guy.

Four aisles in front you have Helen. Mom's closest, probably only, girlfriend. She's wailing like the world's been drained of alcohol, crack and men. Helen's always been the loud, grotesque, in your face type. I never really approved of her considering she's an enabler, and that was something my mother never needed. I mean come on, you stick 2 addicts in a room together, what do you expect to get? But she's always been there for mom when she needed it so I tolerated it. _Ha_ Like my approval was something my mother even considered, so it was pretty redundant.

Movement from the entrance catches my eye. I squint in attempt to make out the figure. It's a man. I can't make out who it could be from here and considering everyone mom knew is here, I have no idea who it could be. I feel the strangers stare on me and my hands become clammy. Feeling uneasy I turn towards the front of the church, rub my hands along my black dress and nod at the priest to get this show on the road. Mom would find a way to come back and kill me if she knew I left her deteriorating body out in an open casket for everyone to see, I don't want her to feel uncomfortable, _even though she can't feel anything, because you know, she's dead._

* * *

"Oh honey, I just... I- I can't even begin – I don't know, I-" Helen sobs into my ear as she crushes me to death in her arms. The woman couldn't be more than 100 lbs. yet she hugs like a damn jock on speed. I'm also amazed she still has tears to produce, after her no intermission hysterical cry fest she blessed us with throughout the entire funeral, you'd think she'd be all dried up. But nope, tears and other bodily fluids continue to plummet onto my shoulder.

"Ana?" It takes me a moment to realize I'm no longer in her death trap she calls arms.

"Sorry, Helen. What was that?"

She blinks blankly at me. "What are you going to do now, honey?." She asks. What am I going to do now? I shrug. "Oh, well I'll probably hang around here for a bit. You know, grieve and… stuff."

Helen gives me an uncomfortable chuckle. "I mean with life hon. With the apartment and all your mom's stuff…"

"Oh. I – " I blank. Huh. That's actually a really good question. What _am_ I going to do with my life, the apartment and my mom's stuff? I guess I didn't really think about it. _Jesus, Ana **,** Carla's been dead what, 3 days and you didn't think to have a sit down, maybe have a serious think about life and how you're going to survive without her?_

I've always taken care of myself. Got myself up and ready for school. Fed myself, cleaned myself, cleaned mom when she was too strung up to function. I made sure the house was always as presentable as it could be, I covered the bruises and scars mom would leave on me so child services wouldn't be informed. I did everything that needed to be done. But I didn't make the money. I didn't pay the rent. I didn't pay the bills. I don't even know how mom made any money when she didn't work. Granted she'd blow whatever she had on the stuff and leave us with nothing, her lifestyle wasn't cheap. I had to scrounge for whatever money I could find around the house and save for food and necessities. I'd take whatever I could get from the men that walked through the revolving door of mom's life. I guess technically that's called theft, but I don't like labels. Besides, those men were doing far worse things anyway to even notice a missing 10 or 20 from their wallets. I stopped sticking around when the consistency of men became… well constant. Then I'd just stop sticking around altogether really. I'd hang at the library and catch up on some sleep or just roam around. I only went home when I needed to. I also gave up on checking on her, making sure she didn't drown in her own vomit. Maybe –

I'm brought out of my head by the sound of a loud motorbike revving.

"Ana hon, my ride's here. I gotta go but if you need anything, anything at all, just give me a call. Ok?" Helen gives me another tight hug, and then holds me at an arm's length.

"You know, I'd offer to let you crash at mine but I got company so -."

I glance at her "company" and blink. The heavy biker spits to the left of him and gives me a wink. Yeah I'm going to have to agree with her.

"No, no I get it. I'll give you a call if – "

"Ok hon, I'll see you later! You take care ok?" She cuts me off and begins to walk away but not without turning around one last time to face me for the finale of her little show. She places her hand on her chest, I'm assuming where the heart would be if she had one and sighs sadly. Shaking her head and wiping a tear away she turns back around, rushes to the motorbike and hops on. I watch as the heavy set biker gropes Helen, making her squeal like a damn pig. I grimace.

As the sound of the motorbike fades in the distance, I'm left outside the church, alone and in silence. I look around and notice I'm the only one here. Chuck left halfway through the service and the priest, well he left so quickly you'd think he was meeting up with Jesus.

I look up at the sky, colors arrayed from the sunset. I should definitely start heading home. You don't want to be walking around these parts of town at night, especially as a 16 year old girl. The wind picks up and I shiver from the cold.

I wrap my arms around myself and start walking away from the church. The sound of leaves rustling and the gravel crunching under my feet deafens me. I feel a twinge in the pit of my stomach. Ignoring it I continue walking, away from the church and away from my dead mother. I pull out the battered iPod from my bag, plop the earphones in and put it on shuffle.

"Use somebody" by Kings of Leon begins to play. I blast the volume and walk a bit faster.

 _"I've been roaming around_

 _Always looking down at all I see,_

 _Painted faces fill the places I can't reach"_

My heart begins to feel heavy. My vision becomes blurred and my breathing labored.

 _"You know that I could use somebody,_

 _You know that I could use somebody"_

My knees become weak, so weak I collapse. I drop, right on to the graveled ground. Not caring about the pain or cuts that are now on my hands and knees, I cry. For the first time since finding my mother's lifeless body, head down in her own vomit, I cry. Frustrated, I rip the earphones out of my ears and throw my iPod as far as I physically can. My body falls back down towards the gravel and I use my arms to catch myself. Feeling the gravel under my hands, I clench my fists. I'm crying. Oh God, it hurts! It hurts so fucking much. I can't believe it, I can't believe her! I can't believe she overdosed and choked on her own vomit!

I sit up on my knees and start rocking back and forth. I'm crying. I'm crying for my dead mother, my dead junkie mother who loved crack more than her own 16 year old daughter. But what I'm crying most about? The Fact that she gets to leave this fucked up world and I'm still in it, all alone. What am I supposed to do now? I'm a minor; I'll be thrown into the system for 2 years until I'm chucked back out at 18. That's 2 years of fucking around.

I suddenly find myself gritting my teeth in anger. She fucked me over, big time. It wouldn't even surprise me if she did it on purpose. She knew this would happen. She knew what would happen to me. If my mother was good at anything in life, it was blow. She lived for that drug. There's no way a pro like her simply "overdosed". She knew what she was doing. I don't believe it was an accident for a second. She killed herself.

I laugh out bitterly and shake my head. I knew she hated me for ruining her life but I didn't think she'd actually kill herself to get back at me for being born, like I **asked** to be here. I didn't force her to get pregnant at 18.

The sound of gravel crunching behind me brings me out of my head. I wipe my nose with the back of my hand and turn around. I notice a man, possibly the same stranger from earlier at the ceremony walking in my direction. Well he can walk straight past me, I'm not moving. I wipe my eyes as I wait for him to walk by. Embarrassing as this may be I just couldn't give a fuck. The footsteps stop and I roll my eyes in annoyance.

"I'm not moving out of your way." I state boldly. There's a length of silence before I hear an annoyed sigh. "No, you're really not, unfortunately." Wow. The nerve of this guy. I stand up; ignoring the pain and indents the gravel has left on my knees and turn to face this guy. Hands on my hips, I suss him out. Suit and tie, broad shoulders, masculine features, a hint of stubble coming through, Clean dark hair; I'd say late 30's early 40's. But what captures my attention the most, are his eyes. Piercing blue eyes. Just like mine and I mean _exactly_ like mine.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to stare?" he states. I can't help but snort. "The only thing my mother ever taught me was how to duck and dodge her fists."

Something washes over this man's face, shock I think? But it's gone before I can even tell. An awkward passing takes place as I watch him suss _me_ out. Not that there's much to suss. I look down at his hand and notice he's a wedding band.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. What is it with these kinds of men? "Look man, I'm not putting out any, you get it? So why don't you go back home to your wife. She can you give much more than a 16 year old girl could, unless of course that 16 year old girl is Courtney Hendrix, Well then you might have something. That girl knows how to hoe."

His eyes harden and I notice the working of his jaw as he clenches it. _Ok scary…_ "I take it you don't know who I am then, Anastasia?" I freeze, how the hell does this guy know my name, how does he know _me?_ Before I can get my mouth to operate he continues.

"As much as I do prefer you not knowing me or knowing I even exist, by law I do have obligations when it comes to you and unfortunately your junkie of a mother has managed to once again make my life all the more difficult. Not even an hour in the ground and there's yet another obstacle she has me going through."

Nothing, nothing of what this man just said seems to be registering. I can't even string along and put into words one of the many questions I have right now and I'm not an idiot. But the one thing that keeps replaying in my head is the fact that he called my mom a junkie.

I've never been one to back down. Growing up the way I did, becoming a fighter was a necessity. Nothing was given to you and nobody owed you anything around here or in life.

This man didn't know me. He might know my name, hell, even know my mom but he didn't fucking _know_ me.

"I don't know who you think you are, nor do I care, but you don't just go around sprouting shit about dead mothers, especially to the dead mother's kid, and especially at the church where she was _just_ fucking buried. It seems like _your_ mother didn't teach you to show some fucking respect to the dead, junkie or not."

I turn on my heel and start walking away before I can catch his expression. The tears have returned but they're tears of anger. I can't believe that fucking guy. I don't give two shits that he knows me and my mother, I don't care that he has _obligations_ , whatever the fuck that means. I just need to get away from him before I commit murder.

I don't hear his hurried footsteps over the pounding pulse in my ears. He grabs my arm and I do the first thing you always do when a man grabs you in a public area. I scream. I scream so loud I pierce my own damn ear drums. Then I run.

"Jesus Christ, Anastasia will you stop!" He yells behind me as he runs after me. I might be fast for my age and height but this man has long legs, so it's not long before he catches up and grabs onto the back of my dress. He pulls me back and I fall into his chest. His arms are wrapped tightly around me; they tighten all the more when I struggle.

"Let me go you fucker!" I twist, turn, thrash, attempt to throw my head back and make contact with a nose or something, but he's too tall.

He covers my mouth with his hand and lifts me completely off the ground so I have no footing. I still continue to twist, turn and thrash in air.

"Anastasia, you need to calm down, _right now._ Just calm down I'm not going to hurt you."

I slow my breathing, my heart's still pumping hard and the adrenaline is still kicking but I relax my body. As soon as he releases me, I'll incapacitate him, I'll kick him in the nuts then run.

"Good. Now just relax. I'm going to take my hand away from your mouth now, okay?"

I nod my head, slowly to show I've calmed. As if he read my mind, "I'm not going to release you." Immediately I scream bloody murder and start thrashing again. His hand goes back over my mouth.

"Just listen to me for 5 damn minutes, will you!" I manage to bite his hand and hard too. He lets out a grunt and releases me. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I sprint.

"I'm your fucking father, Anastasia!" He yells. I thought I was running, I could've sworn I was _still_ running. I am running right? So If I'm running, why are my legs not moving? I turn around and face him. The man who knows me. Who knew my junkie mother. Who happens to share the same eyes as mine. The _exact_ same eyes. He catches his breathe and stands up straight. Suddenly seeming more taller now.

"My name's Carrick Grey, I'm your biological father."

* * *

Please leave your honest review, xNikki.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: The original characters of Fifty Shades of Grey are owned by E.L. James. The content, added characters and storyline of this story are owned by me. No copyright infringement is intended.**

 **Rated M for adult language.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

I take another big bite out of my burger, "So" I start with my mouth full of food. "You and mom did the dirty almost 17 years ago, you knocked her –"

Carrick rubs his face in frustration and leans his elbows on the table. "Do you mind _not_ talking with your mouth full, it's not very pleasant."

I swallow the food in my mouth and set my burger down. Folding my arms I continue, "So like I was saying, you and mom did the dirty almost 17 years ago, you knocked her up, mom disappeared only to come back ten months later with me and you didn't want me?"

Carrick's snaps up straight, "I didn't say I didn't want you, Anastasia, stop putting words into my mouth."

I pick up a fry, dip it in some ketchup and plop in my mouth. "Well I'm only going off the fact that it's been 16 years and I didn't even know you existed. Mom didn't tell me about you, fair enough, but you didn't exactly make yourself known either." I shrug. To be completely honest, I don't really care. There's only one time I remember actually thinking about the whole father thing. I was six years old.

" _Mommy, where's my daddy?" I ask from the floor of our living room._

 _Mommy mutes the volume on the TV._

" _Wha - Ana, who the fuck said anything about your daddy?" She yells._

 _I continue playing with the tennis ball I found in the gutter on the way back from school and shrug._

" _Well Lucy from school was talking about how good her daddy is cause he puts bad guys away and everyone was listening and talking about their daddies and then she asked me about mine and I –"_

" _You tell that little shit Lucy she needs to keep her goddamn trap shut, I'm your daddy you hear? I'm your mommy, daddy, grandma, grandpa, fucking great uncle Bob. You get it?"_

 _I nod my head and continue playing with the dirty tennis ball and forget all about daddy._

That next day, I _did_ tell Lucy she needed to keep her trap shut. She didn't understand what I was saying, being an innocent six year old and all. I knew what it meant; I was my mother's daughter after all. I look back up at Carrick and notice the painfully bored expression on his handsome face. It's obvious he'd rather be anywhere else than here.

"Carrick, you can leave you know. I know you said you had an obligation or whatever but seriously I'm all good. I'll figure my shit out and get on with life."

He pauses for a moment and stares at me. Sighing he calls the waitress over. He orders a cup of coffee and then sits back in his seat. He looks so out of place here, with his fancy suit and tie. He sticks out like a sore thumb in this run down diner. It's almost humorous.

"So, the suit." I take a large gulp of my strawberry thick shake.

"I'm a lawyer." I choke on the liquid as it goes down my throat and burst out laughing, wiping my mouth I shake my head and chuckle. "Sorry, it's just I was literally just thinking about this one time in school, I was six years old, and this girl Lucy – "

"Look, Anastasia we really don't have all night." He looks at his watch, "In fact, we should actually get going." The waitress comes back with his coffee, he doesn't even acknowledge her or say thank you. As he stands he buttons up his suit jacket and chucks a fifty on the table. A fifty. A fifty dollar note. That's a lot of money for a burger, fries and thick shake.

He notices me gape at the money but doesn't say anything. _Real classy, Ana._ Wait hang on, did he say _we_ should get going? "Did you say _we_ should get going?" I ask aloud.

He pulls out his phone. "Yes I did." He doesn't look at me when he answers. I can't help but feel a little… insulted. I mean I get it, he doesn't want to be here, he obviously doesn't really want to acknowledge me but he could be a little more considerate, especially considering I _did_ just bury my mom not even two hours ago and he just expects me to go with him? I don't even know where or why, in fact, I don't know shit!

"You know, I don't think I want to go anywhere with you." I sit back down in the booth and place both hands on the table. Carrick looks at me with the quirk of his brow and returns his attention back to his phone. "Sorry, Anastasia, but you don't really have a choice." Ha, like hell I don't have a choice. It's him who doesn't have a bloody choice.

"We need to go." He states firmly.

I shake my head and sink further into the seat. "Like I said, I'm not going anywhere. I don't even _know_ you. You say you're my bio dad but who's to say you're not some dealer or pimp who's looking to settle a debt of my mom's? Forget it man, I'm not going anywhere."

I don't think he's a dealer _or_ a pimp. But he can't just show up out of nowhere on the day I bury mom and think I'm going to just follow him to... Wherever the hell he wants to take me. Carrick sits back down and exhales. I can tell he's trying not to lose his shit.

"I'm not a dealer or pimp. I give you my word." Is he for real?

"Carrick, I don't know where you're from but look around, we're in south side Chicago. Does it look like your _word_ would mean anything to anyone around here? "

"To be frank, I really don't care if does or not. By law, you are my daughter and unfortunately neither you nor I can change that. You don't know me and I don't know you however we're just going to have to make this work because, like it or not, we're both stuck with one another. Got it? So stop wasting my time. Let's. Go."

He turns on his heel and walks out, leaving me behind. I roll my eyes and quickly finish off my thick shake. The man's a serious drama queen. If it weren't for the eyes, nose _and hair_ I'd _never_ believe we were related.

I yell out thanks to the waitress and throw a salute to the chef. As I walk out of the diner I'm hit nipples first with the cold. I wrap my arms around myself and walk towards Carrick. He's waiting by a cab.

"Yes. Yes, I know Grace. Okay. Alright, I love you too. I have to go, bye." He shoves his phone into his pocket and opens the door of the cab for me to get in.

"We have to stop by my place so I can get my stuff." I slide in the cab and Carrick gets in after me. "We'll have the movers collect your things." I raise my brow. "That's really not necessary, plus that'll be a total waste of money."

He rubs his forehead and looks out the window. "Money's not an issue, Anastasia."

I shake my head, "Well that's great and all but what I'm saying is, there's nothing to actually move. Everything I own can fit into one bag."

Carrick looks at me with an expression I can't make out.

"I swear it'll only take me ten minutes to pack tops. You have my word."

* * *

I barge the front door with my shoulder two more times. "I'll get it, she's like this all the time." I barge it one last time and it opens, "Ah there we go, she just couldn't resist." I walk through and throw my bag on the chair.

"Your door is a she?" I laugh as I turn the lamp on in the living room/dining room/kitchen. "Yeah, I guess she is. Uh…" I look around the small space, grab the sheet and blanket off the couch and throw it in the corner. "Make yourself comfortable…"

Carrick's gazing around the room, taking everything in. I've never been a self conscious person and it's not as though my place is a complete dump. Well, this whole building, actually this whole neighbourhood is pretty much a dump but I've made it work. Or at least _I_ like to think so. I walk over to the kitchen and open the fridge. I don't know why considering it's always empty. Well that's not exactly true, there's some expired milk and half a sub that's been in there for a few weeks. I shut the fridge door and turn to Carrick. "I don't have any drinks and I don't really trust the water coming out of this building's pipes so…"

He's still standing around, gazing. This place is so small it only takes 20 seconds to gaze, probably less. _He's judging you._ "I know it's not much but it's home." Like I need to justify my life. The air in the room shifts and things become… awkward.

"Okay so I'm just going to quickly grab my things; won't be long." I rush into the room and close the door to the one bedroom we have. I fall back against the door and slide down. "What the fuck is happening here Ana?" I say to myself. Rubbing my face I let out a breath and get up to walk over to the mirror. I stare at myself and rub my hands together.

"Okay Ana, You can do this, you so got this." I take the hair tie from around wrist and put my hair into a loose ponytail. "So you have a father, no biggie. Most people have them." I grab my old black sports bag from under the bed. This should hold everything no problem. I pick up the small pile of clothes on the floor and shove them into the bag. I unzip my dress and shove that in also. I walk over to the broken dresser and stop.

Mom's stuff. What's going to happen to all her things? What's going to happen to this apartment? Are there people I need to call to inform them of Mom's death?

"Anastasia we –" Carrick barges in without knocking. My head snaps to his and I let out a scream or did Carrick, I don't know. I run to the door in nothing but my cotton bra and panties and slam it shut with my two hands. I feel my skin burning from embarrassment. "Geez Carrick have you ever heard of knocking?!" I exclaim through the door.

"I'm sorry I- I didn't mean to walk in on you, I-" I shut my eyes tight and shake my head.

"It's okay don't worry about it."

"You were taking a bit long and I –"

I roll my eyes "Okay I get it!"

"And then I heard you talking and-"

"Jesus Christ Carrick Okay! Go away, leave me alone!" I yell. Frustrated and annoyed I take a moment to calm down. I hear his footsteps shuffle across the floor and I take a deep breath. Not even three hours. Not even 3 hours of knowing I had a dad and he sees me practically naked. This is actually really fucking embarrassing.

I've had mom's men _accidentally_ walk in on me before and I've never been embarrassed, pissed off yes, but embarrassed? No. But the fact that the man whose sperm made me walked in on me. That's a completely different thing. _The man whose sperm made you? Really?_

* * *

Carrick hasn't made eye contact or even spoken a word to me since we left the apartment. few grunts here and there to appease me and my questions but not a word. I guess he's just as embarrassed as I am. "So are you going to tell me where we're going?" I ask.

"Seattle." My eyes bulge out of their sockets. "Did you just say _Seattle?!"_ That couldn't have been right. Surely. He nods his head as he continues to gaze out the cab window. "Okay, let me out. I can walk back home from here." The cab driver looks back at us from his rear view mirror and slows the car down.

"Don't listen to her, keep driving." I shake my head and unbuckle my belt. "Carrick, there's no way in _hell_ I'm going all the way to Seattle with you! Do you know where Seattle is?!"

"Well of course I do, I live there and yes you are." I close my eyes and shake my head. I'm beginning to feel the anxiety clouding my head.

"No, stop the car, now."

"Anasta-"

"NOW!" I yell. The driver pulls over to the side of the road and I leap out of the car. I place my hands on the back of my head and breathe in the night air. Seattle. Seattle. _Seattle!_

"Anastasia,"

"No." I cut him off. "I'm not going to Seattle. You can't make me go." I state calmly. "Actually, I can and I am." I can't help but chuckle.

"Who do you think you are? Huh? You honestly think you can just show up at my mother's funeral, tell me you're my dad and then drag me across the country with you? You know what, I'm actually more pissed at myself if anything for even agreeing to go _anywhere_ with you! And I blame that on the fact that I'm unstable right now with my mom dying and I'm obviously not in the right state of mind to be making any decisions right now. Except for this decision! I can make this one."

We stare down each other for another moment or two, both resistant to make a move. "Where else are you going to go Anastasia? You have no family, no money oh and let's not forget, you're still a damn child! Like it or not, I'm your last hope. Now get in the car."

I stand my ground, making no attempt to move. This is all just happening too fast. "You're a real jerk, you know that? You can't just throw all this on me and expect me to accept it straight away, I just buried my mother for crying out loud! I need time!"

"Well I don't have time!" Carrick yells. I freeze up from shock. "You think I want to be here, Anastasia? Chasing you around? It was either this or I hand you off and you get thrown into the system. Would you rather that?Tell me now so I can stop wasting my time."

I bite my lip and look down at my battered chucks. How the hell did it get to this? A thought suddenly occurs. "You organized the funeral, didn't you?"

Carrick rolls his eyes and throws his hands up in defeat. "Yes, I did." I nod my head and continue to stare down at my shoes. Now that I think about it…

"Is that why no one came for me when she died, no one from child services?" He crosses his arms and looks up at the night sky. "Yes, Anastasia. I was made aware of Carla's passing as soon as her death was recorded on file. I took care of the paper work, funeral and...your future."

"Without talking to me about it first?" I ask.

"I didn't and don't need to, you're a child, you don't know what's best for you." I can't believe this. "But you do?" I ask.

"Yes I do. As a father it's my job to know what's best so I have some experience." I scoff and roll my eyes. "I'd hardly call three hours in my life experience."

"I couldn't agree more. However I was referring to my children." He didn't even bat an eyelash. So now not only do I have a father, there are other children who I share blood with. Great. Ugh, but of course he has other children. Wait no, sorry, not _other_ children, just _his_ children. Not that I expected to be a part of the family or anything, I honestly couldn't give two shits. I think about this for a moment more. He's not looking to kindle any relationship and I'm on the same boat as he is. I don't expect anything from him or his family; I'm just an obligation, just paperwork. I know it's all the way in Seattle but it does give me a place to crash for two years until I can be on my way. I really hate how much this makes sense.

And it _would_ make things somewhat easier for me. I don't have to figure out how to dodge the system, money, food or a roof over my head. I walk back to the cab in silence and hop in. I hear him mutter something about 16 year olds and hormones as he gets in.

He instructs the driver to continue to the airport. I mean it's not like I'm attached to this place or anyone here. I've always been a loner so it's not like I'm leaving anything or anyone behind. I'll get a job, save as much as I can, avoid his family as much as I can and then the day I hit 18, I'm granted my freedom.

I can do it. I can do this, I mean what's two years in Seattle anyway?


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: The original characters of Fifty Shades of Grey are owned by E.L. James. The content, added characters and storyline of this story are owned by me. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

Chapter 3

4 hours and 30 minutes. That's how long it takes to fly from Chicago to Seattle. You know, roughly. 4 hours and 30 minutes. I take a look at the time on my iPod, subconsciously running my finger over the crack on the screen as if it's going to help me see the time better. We've been in the air for I'd say... About 45 minutes. That leaves 3 hours and 45 minutes left of this flight. 3 hours and 45 minutes left of little hard feet kicking the back of my seat every few minutes or so. I slowly close my eyes and release a breath, just chill, Ana. Find your happy place, find it... The kid kicks my seat again and I clench my jaw, shutting my eyes tighter. "Happy place, where _arrrrrre_ you?" I say lowly to myself. It's been a few moments and I prepare myself for another kick when, nothing. No kick. I open my eyes and sigh. Happy place has been located.

I sink further back into my seat. Suddenly very grateful that I didn't have to share my aisle with anyone. I take a handful of salted peanuts and shove them in my mouth, dropping a few on my chest. I brush them off and sit up to check on Carrick, a few aisles in front of me doing something on his laptop. He didn't give me an explanation as to why we're seated apart but it don't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. He didn't want to sit with me. I get it. He probably didn't want to be hounded with all the questions.

I look around the cabin and notice everyone just doing their own thing, some reading, listening to music, watching a movie or sleeping. I shuffle over to the window seat and gaze out at the night sky, the plane rattles a bit and I near jump out of my damn seat. Looking around I see no one else even slightly bothered by it. "Just hitting a bump in the road" I look over to an amused elderly man. "Happens all the time." I gulp and sit back nodding. "Yeah, air can be pretty bumpy." I retort. I look back out of the window and into the darkness. My first time flying and I don't get to see anything but night sky.

My body's propelled forward from the impact of my seat getting kicked and I lose my breath for a second. Little turd has a vicious kick in him. I notice from the corner of my eye his mother getting up and moving to the back of the cabin to the toilets. I turn around, knees on seat, towering over my chair. Staring into the eyes of an enemy. A 6 or 7 year old enemy.

I widen my eyes for the crazy effect and grip the head rest. "You kick my seat again, I'll cut your legs off and use your bones to pick your flesh out of my teeth." I lick my lips and add a little twitch to my left eye. His little face pales and he tucks his legs under himself. I slowly lower myself to the seat, still wide eyed and staring at him. My crazy eyes never leave his until the seat blocks him from my vision. I hear a little whimper and I can't help but quietly chuckle to myself as I turn and face forward.

* * *

Seattle Airport is a rush. People coming at you from all directions. Luckily neither of us had any luggage to check in so we make our way out of the airport. Carrick is walking in long strides and I have to pretty much jog to keep up with him. He's constantly looking at his phone, not even looking where he's going, people seem to just move out of _their_ way for him, meanwhile I've been shouldered 3 times now. I grip the straps of my bag tighter and rush to Carrick's side.

We finally exit the airport and I let out a loud sigh, grateful for the cool breeze that hits my face. I close my eyes and just breathe. This day has been the longest day of my life. The most stressful. The most... Bizarre.

I hear a little gasp from the side of me, I open my eyes and turn to see the kid from plane staring at me, his mouth agape, clutching his mom's hand like a life line, I give him my crazy eyes and lick my lips. He turns his body into his mom and shakes his head feverishly. I turn my head and laugh to myself. Kid's, gotta love em, "I'll be right back." Carrick turns to leave but stops before taking his third step. "Stay right there, _don't_ move, Anastasia." I fight the urge to roll my eyes and plank my butt down on the seat in the waiting bay.

Carrick disappears from sight and I'm left with my thoughts. Thinking about how I got here. Well I know how I got _here_. But I mean in life... Everything happened so fast. Mom died, I buried her, I met my Bio-Dad and now I'm in Seattle. Seattle. Holy shit I'm in _Seattle._ I look around and take it all in. Well, there's not really much to take in right now but shit, I now live in Seattle. I live in a whole different state... And I have a fucking dad. A _dad!_ Well, not really a dad, a dad raises you, cares for you. I have a guardian. A guardian who helped with the process of making me. I wonder what his kids are like. He hasn't really mentioned them, or his wife, or anything about anything really. I feel a headache coming on and I rub in between my eyes.

I still can't believe I agreed to come here, and so quickly too. _Well you didn't really have a choice now, did you?_ I could've ran. Okay, I didn't have anywhere to run _to_ but I'd survive. I'm sure of it...

Carrick pulls up in front of me in a sleek black car, you can tell it's expensive. It's one a well established dealer or pimp would drive. I open the passenger door and hop in, putting my seatbelt on.

"You ready?" He asks, looking unbothered. No. I want to say no. I'm not ready. I want to get back on that plane and get back to Chicago, I want my dead no good junkie mother to be alive. I want everything to be how it was just a week ago. But it doesn't matter what I want, and Carrick made the very clear when he dragged me to a different state only hours after burying my mom.

"Yeah, I'm ready."

* * *

With Seattle 2 hours behind Chicago, it's only 9PM. Carrick and I stopped off to grab a late dinner, which I'm actually pretty grateful for. There's question's that need to be asked before I become a part of this life for the next 2 years.

I run my finger along the rim of my glass. "So, your wife, Grace, right?" Carrick nods and I continue. "She's all good with me crashing at your guy's place? For the next 2 years? With your and her kids?"

He eyed me blankly, unnerving me just a tad. Shit... "She _does_ know I'm coming right? She knows about me right?" My voice goes up a pitch.

"Of course she knows Anastasia, she's my wife for crying out loud." I release a breath and slouch in my chair. Carrick clears his throat and places his elbows on the table.

"It's my children who haven't heard the news from me myself." I stare wide eyed at this man, who's blood I have running through my veins. He didn't tell his kids?

"Carrick, _what the fuck?!_ " I exclaim, not caring for the stares we're getting from the other customers, they can get stuffed for all I care at the moment. Carrick's eye's harden and his jaw clenches in warning.

"Anastasia, don't-"

"How could you _not_ tell your kids?! What? I'm just gonna rock up there and wait for them to notice a weird chick not seeming to leave their house? Don't you think springing this shit on them is gonna make things a bit awkward? For _all_ parties involved? I mean, how can they not know they have a half sibli-" Carrick cut me off.

"There is no blood relation between you and my children, Anastasia." I shake my head in confusion. Carrick see's my reaction and rolls the sleeves of his shirt up. I only just noticed how exhausted this man looks.

"All my children are adopted. All from different families." Adopted. He adopted children. The rejection I didn't feel back in Chicago when he laid all this shit on me suddenly peaks it's ugly head around the corner. This man, the man who actually fathered me, knew about my existence but decided instead of taking _me_ , he adopted kids instead? Creating his family while I lived the life of... No, I'm not going there. Who cares what this man did, who cares if he didn't want me and still doesn't want me, It's not like being fatherless tainted my life, it's not like I have _daddy issues._ Like, I'd give him the satisfaction.

"They've recently become aware of your existence." Okay _now_ I roll my eyes.

"They're currently staying with their grandparents and they're due back the day after tomorrow. Like I said, they've become aware of your existence, I just wasn't able to tell them myself. Your mother's sudden death took a bit of my attention."

I glared at him and his asshole tone. Just the way he speaks of Mom and even me, it's so painfully obvious how much of a nuisance we are, even in death, Mom still manages to fuck with people and their lives.

Carrick goes on, getting it all out of the way. "We have 2 sons, Elliot, who's 18 and Christian, who's 17, and a daughter named Mia, who's 15 years old." I notice his eyes brighten at the mention of these kids and for a second I wonder... I wonder what it'd be like to have a parent who's eyes light up from the mention of your name. To have a parent who was proud of you. I shut down those thoughts and took a forkful of my pasta. No point in me stressing about Carrick's kids. I'm only there for 2 years and If I just stay out of the way, there shouldn't be any problems.

Carrick looks down at his watch and fishes out some money. "It's getting late, we should get going. When we get back to the house, you can get settled in, you've had a big day today and should rest. We'll discuss school and everything else tomorrow."

My head snapped up in attention and I groan under my breathe. Shit, I forgot about school. School that starts just in a couple of weeks. Great. No doubt Carrick already handled all that without even talking to me about it. _Just keep your head down, Ana. Don't make things difficult. Gotta remember this is a temporary thing._ I relax a bit at the thought. This is _all_ temporary.

* * *

There are no words to describe the house I stand before. Just saying the word house makes me want to spit on myself. This is a fucking mansion. This is some serious MTV 'Welcome to my crib' shit. Carrick opens a door, and I say _a_ door because this place has double doors! What kind of lawyer is this man? I walk up the stairs and reluctantly step inside. I gaze around the space in front of me, everything is so clean and shiny. I look down at my battered chucks and can't help but pray I don't mark these floors. _It's just a house, Ana. It don't mean anything._ No it doesn't, but it's still _really_ damn beautiful.

I finally notice the woman standing a few meters ahead of me. Hands covering her mouth as she takes me in. Carrick walks to her side and whispers something into her ear. Grace, I presume.

Grace lowers her hands to her chest and takes a few deep breaths. He eyes roaming all over me. I can't help but feel extremely naked. I pull at the bottom of my top and swallow. Carrick and Grace walk over to me.

"Anastasia, this is my wife, Grace." I notice the silver lining of her eyes, tears desperate to be shed. "Hey." _That's all you got? "Hey"?_

"My... Hello, Anastasia. It's so nice to finally meet you." Grace grabs my hand and holds it firmly in hers. Her hands are extremely soft and kinda... comforting. I gaze up at the woman and really take her in. She's beautiful. Middle aged beauty with a kindness in her eyes. You don't see plenty of these back home. Her dark brown hair sits just at her shoulders in waves. So effortless.

I subtly pull my hand out of her grasp and give her a tight lip smile. "Yeah, uh, nice to meet you too." I look over to Carrick who mirrors the same unease I'm feeling over here.

"I'm so sorry about your mother, Anastasia." I shift on my feet and give a little shrug, growing more and more uncomfortable. This lady is just too... warm.

"Yeah, well you know, it happens." I inwardly face palm myself really fucking hard. _It happens?_ Who the heck says that?

Grace looks confused as she looks to Carrick for some sort of rescue. Carrick walks over and grabs my bag. "Right well, it's been a long day and I'm sure Anastasia would like to get some rest."

"Of course, of course. Let me show you to your room." Grace walks to the winding staircase, geez even her walk is effortless. I bet she doesn't even fart. She seems like she's above farting.

I follow her with Carrick following behind. I can't even fathom what I'm feeling right now.

God there's a lot of stairs. We reach the top and walk past some other doors. This is a bloody hotel. All these doors and long wide hallways, how can this be a home?! "I can give you the tour tomorrow when you've gotten some rest. But this is your room." Grace opens the door for me to walk in. I take a step in and my breath's been stolen right from my lungs.

"This..." I take it in, my brain trying to keep up with the overload of information I'm taking in right now. The walls are such a bright white, yes, I say bright white because ordinary white don't look that bright. In the middle of the room, a queen size four poster bed that looks like something a queen would sleep on. On the left hand side there's a window seat that's flooded with cushions, I'd be more than happy to sleep on just those by how comfortable they look. There's a bathroom. I have a _bathroom_ in my room, in my _room,_ and a closet I can actually walk _into_. Forget walk into, I can bloody make a whole other room in here!

I walk out, "Geez that closest is bigger than my actual home back in Chicago." And it is! I hear Grace gasp but choose to ignore it, I can't believe I'm going to be sleeping in this room for the next 2 years. "We left it bare, you know, so you could fill it with your stuff from home, maybe paint it a color you'd like?"

"Oh I don't have any stuff, everything I own is in that bag there." I mutter half assed, not really paying much attention because I'm still completely enthralled. I walk over to the bed and bounce on it. "Holy shit. This bed is _actually_ bouncy." I bounce some more and rub my eyes. The adrenaline fades and I feel the exhaustion from today.

Carrick drops my bag beside the dresser and puts his hands in his pockets. An awkward silence suddenly fills the room. I run my fingers along the soft duvet and remain silent, not knowing what to say. "So I'm just gonna hit the sack." I break the silence. Cracking my neck. Grace gives me a soft smile and nods her head. Carrick gives me a tight nod and leaves the room, leaving Grace and me alone. She looks after him and shakes her head slightly. Looking back at me, "Get some rest, Anastasia, we'll talk tomorrow. I can't wait." Her smile widens and she quietly closes the door behind her.

This is surreal. This all just feels too surreal. I wander around the room suddenly feeling guilty. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did to this room, it's just a room. It means nothing. But not just that, I was getting all excited over a fucking room when I only just buried my mother earlier today. I shouldn't feel anything but grief and loss and even that I was robbed of when Carrick showed up at the funeral.

I lay back on the too comfortable bed and stare up at the ceiling. Sleep. I need sleep. Tomorrow, I'll figure shit out. When all this shock wears off, I'll have a clearer head and I'll be able to make a plan, set some guidelines for myself. I close my eyes and frown. This bed really is too comfortable, it's like sleeping on a marshmallow. After countless tossing and turnings, I huff and get up off the bed and onto the floor. I grab 2 pillows and snuggle on the ground, geez even this bloody floor is more comfortable than my bed back at home. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, not long after, sleep finally takes me.

* * *

xNikki


End file.
